


Return of the Timelords

by dapol



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Cloister Bell, Gen, Return of the Timelords, Revelations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 13:10:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapol/pseuds/dapol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor explains to Clara what happened to his people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return of the Timelords

On an otherwise typical Saturday evening on the Thames Embankment in London, amongst the hustle and noise of people out to have a fun evening and the noise of taxis going about their business, anyone listening carefully could just have made out a brief, peculiar wheezing-groaning sound which, if written, could have been said to sound like "VWORRRRRP VWORRRRRRP" . The sound died away quickly and the noise faded back to being as it had been, with no notice taken by the merrymakers who continued on their way.

 

"So just why have you brought me to London? It's not as if I've never been here before, and you've even brought me back to my Now - it's not as if anything different's going to happen now."

 

The girl questioning her companion was a thoroughly average young woman, of average height with long brunette hair and a round face. Average in all but the quirk of her mouth as she finished her statement, and the spark in her eyes that belied a questing mind.

 

Her companion was a taller man with a mop of unruly brown hair that fell off to one side, with a boyish face perched on top of a bow tie and wearing a suit of a cut which was in fashion many decades earlier, yet somehow timeless. Looking at her from the side of his eyes, he continued walking apace along the road.

 

"It's strange you know, very strange. You lot, and by that I mean humanity as a whole, have a knack you know. A knack for ignoring things you don't want to have seen - for ignoring the blatant in favour of what you want to be obvious. You tell me nothing different's going to happen now, and you base that on.... what? I mean, in the last ten years you've had the Cybermen invade the whole country, you've had a battle between the Daleks and the Cybermen that very nearly obliterated the middle of London and you've had more strange happenings and goings on than I can count, and I can count to a very, very big number. But no - it's all cream teas and visiting vicars, because that's what England is like, so no - nothing could every happen in London *now* - because your small galaxy mindset insists it can't - in the face of all evidence to the contrary. I mean, here you are walking through London having just stepped out of what looks like a 1950s Police box which is unbelievably vastly immensely huger on the inside than on the outside, and you're walking down the Embankment talking to somebody who looks like a man, but is over a thousand years old, has two hearts and has had several different faces and bodies, having just travelled here from a Circus on the far side of the galaxy a thousand years in the future, and still you insist that nothing different is going to happen *now* because we're back in London?"

 

Taking a breath, the man paused in his step and turned to face the girl, looking at her almost expectantly.

 

"OK Doctor. Good point."

 

Turning to the Doctor, she looked at him in a somewhat expectant way, and as the silence grew, her expectance became impatience.

 

"Quite right Clara. Onwards."

 

Taking a stride, he walked onwards, picking up pace and striding forward for a total of ten steps before realising something was amiss. Turning he saw Clara still standing where she had been throughout their conversation.

 

"Well, aren't you coming then?"

 

"Well, yes... but I'm wondering...."

 

"Wondering?"

 

"Well - yes - what exactly *is* going to happen?"

 

"That's the thing about time and what could be. The best and most fun way, and I really like having fun, is to discover it by getting to it and living through it. No fun at all if you know everything that's going to happen in advance. Takes the surprise out of things. Really ruins games like pass the parcel, and can you imagine Musical Chairs at a meeting of Oracles and Seers? There'll be a load of happy clairvoyants and one grumpy one who knows they're going to lose. So, let's go find out what the future is going to bring and have a bit of fun getting there."

 

"So, either you do know what's coming up and you don't want to tell me, or you have no idea and are just hoping for something to come up"

 

"Yes, precisely."

 

"Precisely what?

 

"Precisely one or the other. C'mon - let's go!"

 

Staring at the Doctor in disbelief for a fraction of a second, Clara realised that this was probably the straightest answer she was going to get from him, and rather than getting infuriated she simply took a breath, shrugged and strode off, calling over her shoulder..

 

"So, not coming then?"

 

Jogging a few paces to catch up, the Doctor grinned at her and, matching her pace, walked beside her and carried on chatting.

 

...

 

A time later the pair, having enjoyed a leisurely stroll through central London with absolutely nothing of any import having happened, paused. In the background, the Palace of Westminster loomed large, its neo-baroque edifice being lit from below by floodlighting and the entire building appearing to dominate the surroundings. Turning to Clara the Doctor got a strange look on his face, and he took a breath.

 

"You know, it's a strange thing. I've told you of the Time War, and you've never really questioned anything I've told you - why is that?"

 

"It's because it's you telling me. It's a fantastical story, and I wouldn't know where to start questioning you on it - the entire thing seems to be on far too huge a scale to comprehend - across all of time and all of space - any question I'd ask would be too small, if that makes any sense? Why are you bringing that up now?"

 

"Too small. Hmm. I suppose any question you could ask would be, yes. Still, surprised you haven't asked one anyway. You ask me questions on everything else. Well. Almost everything. Hmm. Actually, lots. Well - maybe less than you should. I mean, if you'd asked me how to operate the TARDIS toaster things would have worked out better".

 

"The TARDIS Toaster.... Well - why would I ask you? It's a toaster. I couldn't reasonably have been expected to know I'd have to ask how to work a toaster - I mean Doctor, who on earth would rig their toaster so that it toasts backwards in time. How was I expected to know I had to put the bread in *after* I got the toast out. Anyway the TARDIS dealt with the Reaper - it wasn't as if it was *that* big a temporal paradox."

 

"Who on... Earth. Yes. I see what you mean about questions being too small. I'm not from Earth. I'm a Time Lord from Gallifrey. And I rig the toaster that way. It's great. It means I always get toast when I want it rather than having to wait for it. Having to remember to put the bread in later is a small price to pay for toast here and now. Delayed gratification. Strange concept. No reason to be delayed, but yes, I guess I'm on Earth just now, so the answer to 'Who on earth' would rig their toaster that way' the answer would be 'Me, a Time Lord from Gallifrey' would do that. Happy now?"

 

"Umm - Doctor, why are we having a discussion about temporal toast?"

 

"We're not. You asked me about the toaster and I explained that a Time Lord would rig it that way. That's all. A Time Lord."

 

Realising she'd lost track of where this conversation had come from, and had no idea where it had gone, Clara decided to go off in a different direction"

 

"Doctor, you keep telling me that you're a Time Lord, and from Gallifrey - So, all the people from Gallifrey are Time Lords? I'd have thought they'd have been Gallifreyans"

 

A spark coming into his eyes, a grin spread across the Doctor's surprisingly mobile face and he interlaced his hands, cracking his knuckles before taking a deep breath.

 

"I thought you'd never ask! And that's not a small question. Oh no. That's a very big question, and a very good one. And to answer it, well at least to start to answer it in terms understandable by such a limited mind as yours..."

 

Poking him in the solar plexus with her finger Clara proclaimed "Oi! Less of the limited if you don't mind".

 

Grimacing a little, the Doctor continued.

 

"Anyway - to answer your question... No, the reason I say Time Lords and not Gallifreyans is that while all Time Lords are Gallifreyan, not all Gallifreyans are Time Lords. It's a bit of a class thing you see - we have lots of classes. We're like a school that way. Lots of classes, all of different things. Of course we're not that like a school. We don't have teachers, and we don't get to change classes when the bell goes. And we have to stay all day. Not at all like a school now I think of it. Stupid metaphor to use. Ah well.... where was I? Oh yes!

 

Yes - lots of classes. At the top are the Time Lords, and there's not that many of us - there's only a few hundred, with an elected council running the show. The Time lords sit above a load of other groups and live isolated from the Reality of everyday life on Gallifrey. Just like any other planet we have workers - you know, farmers and the like? Time Lords have to eat too you know. And then we have the Shobogans..."

 

Clara snerked a litte and queried "Shobogans? What sort of name is that? Sounds like some kind of sleigh".

 

"I'll have you know that my mother was a Shobogan! It's a perfectly sensible name, if you speak Gallifreyan. Anyway, yes - the Shobogans are travelling traders who move between the outer lands and the Time Lord Citadel. And you may be right on the Sleigh thing, although with the Shobogans it's more Ess Ell Ay Wye - they tend to amuse themselves with whatever comes to hand, and oftentimes that's another Shobogans skull, but anyway - yes, you have the working classes, and the Shobogans and the Time Lords, and like I say there aren't many of them."

 

"Many? Given you're the only one left, it's more like 'any' isn't it?"

 

His face developing a deep frown, the Doctor looked at her in a hurt manner.

 

"I'm... sorry - that was hurtful, wasn't it?"

 

"A bit. Anyway. Yes. The Time Lords. The most powerful beings in this Universe at one point. Absolute mastery over time and space. And yet... The Time War. Yes."

 

Staring briefly into the distance, the Doctor paused, his face passing through many emotions before he once again started.

 

"It's a strange thing you know, most Time Lords wouldn't know the man, or Gallifreyan, in the street if they bit them, which for the most part they wouldn't - I mean most Time Lords were crusty old buggers who held onto one regeneration as long as they could - would probably taste dusty if you bit them. Wouldn't be nice, but yes - the man in the street. I was once a man you know. Not just male, but actually human."

 

He paused as if waiting for a question, which arrived soon enough.

 

"You were... human? But... how? You're alien - you've just spent the last five minutes telling me so. Two hearts and all. Human?"

 

"Oh yes - it's a little trick we developed - the Chameleon Arch - your Time Lord essence is effectively removed and you're left as a mortal being, a human in fact. It's odd that we become human when we use the device, but there you are - oddness happens. Your temporal essence gets stored, normally in a timepiece - it doesn't have to be, but really - can you imagine a Time Lord who when faced with storing their selves in either a timepiece or something mundane would choose an egg or a training shoe? Really. Mine was in a really rather nice pocket watch you know..."

 

He watched Clara's face for any signs of emotion, or disbelief, but all he saw was mild amusement and a little interest.

 

"But... yes. Human. Was strange. I was a teacher at a school. I had lots of classes of my own, despite being middle class. Strange thing that really. Class being somewhere you get taught things, but also your place in the world, and you English - you have so many classes. You have one of the most heavily developed class systems I've ever met. Working/Lower Middle/Middle Middle/Upper Middle/Upper/Nobility - and then to confuse it all you make it possible to move between them just by having somebody touch you with a sword. In most countries what that would make you would be dead, but in England it makes you a Lord, and lets you sit over there..."

 

"So.. what does this have to do with...."

 

"With the time war? I thought you'd never ask!"

 

Glaring at him in an amused way, Clara spoke over him.

 

"I didn't. In fact, I get the feeling you want to talk about it, and have been trying to get me to ask all night, but just because you want doesn't mean you get. So, let me ask you another question, which is probably too small for you to notice, but I'll ask anyway. If these Time Lords of you were so all powerful over space and time and all, what happened to them - I wouldn't have thought people like that would be so easily defeated by... whatever - where are they?"

 

His face lighting up in a manner which was almost manic, the Doctor beamed at her.

 

"Ooooh! That's not a small question. That's a very, very, very big question. Yes. Well. I sort of Time Looped them. They were getting a bit carried away, and Rassilon was about to do some bad things. Rassilon. Big Boss Time Lord. One of the very first of us actually. Rassilon, Omega and the Other. First three. But yes. Rassilon was getting carried away, so I rather sabotaged him and timelooped him and a few others to keep the multiverse safe, but that was only a few of them. Maybe a dozen or so. The rest of them... that's a different matter.

 

Tower of St Stephen you know."

 

"What?"

 

"What what?"

 

"You said 'Tower of St Stephen'"

 

"Did I? Oh, yes - I did"

 

"So, what about it?"

 

"That's what it's called, or at least it was called. Almost everybody called it Big Ben, but that's the name of the largest bell. The tower itself was the tower of St Stephen. Until a few years ago - your government decided that people were probably too thick to learn the real name, after all it'd been 150 years and they hadn't managed yet, so instead of forcing people to learn, they changed the name of the tower to Big Ben. Always easier to change the facts to match the perception than to change the perception to match the facts. I may have mentioned. Daleks and cybermen and all that. Mmm?"

 

"Yes, Doctor. You might have said something along those lines" she said through gritted teeth. "So...?"

 

"So....? Yes - your parliament. Strange thing. Caused by lots of people losing arguments over the years and setting things up so they don't have to take the blame when they win. Strange setup really - bicameral parliament. Sounds a bit like a shellfish that. Bi-cameral. Bi Cammmmmeral. Yes. But it's not of course - just means two chambers. The Commons and the Lords. The Commons being elected, and the Lords mostly being born, although some people get elected to it by the elected people in the commons. Dreadfully complicated all that, but it seems to work some of the time. "

 

"Doctor, I know this - I learned it in school. Why are you telling me this?"

 

"You know this? Oh. Well then - maybe I can tell you something you don't know. Did you know there are actually two types of lords? There's actually bishops in the House of Lords. The Lords Spiritual."

 

"OK - that I didn't know - why on earth are they there? Or should I ask why in the universe are they there?"

 

"Oh - the answer to that one's only 'on earth'. They're there because the UK has no separation of Church and State. The monarch is head of both state and church, and so they're her representatives for the church. The other lot though, the other lot are more interesting. There's more of them - six hundred and some. They have a different name....."

 

"Are you going to make me ask?"

 

The Doctor sniffed a little and once again seemed to be looking into the distance, just past what he'd just said had previously been the Tower of St Stephen.

 

"Mmm? Oh? Oh yes! What happened to the Time Lords you ask?"

 

"Doctor, you do make it difficult to tell which conversation you were having - you were taking about the house of Lords and then jump back to the Time Lords... One conversation or another, just to let my limited human brain keep up?"

 

"Mmm - if you insist. OK. Actually, it is one conversation, and if you'd stop interrupting me I'd explain. So, yes - you have the Lords Spirtual who are bishops, and they're there just because they're part of the state church, but the other lot - well, that's most of the Lords you know about, and they have a different name. They're the Lords Temporal...."

 

He left this statement hanging in the air, looking expectantly at Clara, waiting for her to twig what he'd just said.

 

"Lords ...Temporal? As in Lords... Time. As in Time Lords? Is that what you're saying?"

 

Just as she asked this question, the clouds which had been gathering around the Palace of Westminster suddenly thickened, and the air became heavy with the scent of ozone, indicating a thunderstorm brewing.

 

"Oh yes Clara! You wonderful, wonderful limited fantastic being! Exactly! Time Lords!"

 

And with this exclamation an almighty lightning bolt formed and struck the clock tower, blowing out all four faces of the clock leaving nothing but the gaping orifices where they had being, and causing a "CLANNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG" sound, which a short time later was answered from the direction Clara and the Doctor had been walking all night with an equally sonorous "CLANNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG".

 

"Doctor... is that....?"

 

"The Cloister Bell in the TARDIS. Oh yes. But don't worry - it's nothing bad this time. It's just the old girl showing she's happy."

 

"Happy?"

 

"Oh yes... just wait."

 

And with that, Clara began to hear a noise, familiar yet not. A noise she recognise but much louder, and rich with unfamiliar bass notes.

 

"VWORRRRRRP! VWORRRRRRRP! VWORRRRRRRRRP!"

 

Before her disbelieving eyes, the Tower of St Stephen dematerialised, leaving only the echoes of its Vworp drive.

 

"Doctor... that was..... a..?"

 

"TARDIS? Oh yes. I said Time Lords would store their essence in a timepiece didn't I? Well, can you imagine anything better for a bunch of egotistical old crumblies like that lot than the clock of Big Ben to store their selves? Six hundred and thirty Time Lords back in the universe. All back. This is big news. On the other hand, the BBC are going to need to figure a new way to start their news."

 

Quirking her smile at the Doctor, Clara strode off in the direction of their TARDIS.

 

"I'm sure they'll manage."

 

"I'm sure they will. They always do."


End file.
